Friday, September 7, 2012

PUPO #2

It was a split-second decision I made several weeks ago. After committing to halting our FET until I was ready, I decided that I was suddenly...ready. At once I was in a much better space both physically and emotionally and the timing at work seemed to make sense (which it rarely does), so I embarked on returning our 3 1/2 year old embryos. As of today, I am officially PUPO.

Weird. I have a coupla embies floatin' around in me, each deciding whether to stick around. Maybe they've already made the decision. That stuff, well, it's still surreal, even after having experienced it the first time around (and watching one of those said embryos from three years ago go to preschool today).

The journey to this transfer was especially harrowing this time around and it wasn't just about being loaded up with crazy-making hormones. After attending a quick work meeting the morning of (I know, stupid decision, but I wanted to get it out of the way) and my son's preschool orientation for 20 minutes after that (it was worth it), Mr. S and I rushed off to the clinic for my pre-treatment acupuncture for what was supposed to be a 30 minute commute. We would have arrived in plenty of time. At that point, it was about an hour-and-a-half until transfer. So, that 30 minute commute? Well, as we sat in inching traffic just fifteen minutes from our house, we discovered that our commute was projected to have over two hours of delays due to freeway closures.

Cue all that is anti-relaxation.

It turns out that there was an officer-involved shooting on the freeway somewhere between our town and the clinic during which both the suspect and an officer were shot. Although I am now heartbroken for the family of the officer (who just passed away today), at the time, I have to honestly say that I was hyper-focused on what was in front of me, especially as I sat in a frozen stream of traffic with the fullest bladder imaginable. It was well beyond discomfort and into the seering pain stage.

After finally finding our way off the freeway, I peed for what seemed like 5 minutes straight and we got back on for another hour, taking a very diverted path. As soon as we arrived at the clinic, we did not pass go, collect $200 (no they collected far more than that) and did not do pre-acupuncture. Instead, I was ushered straight into the stirrups. As I lay there, it became one of the most odd de-ja-vu experiences.

Except, this was different. I'd been here before, but then, I haven't. 3 1/2 years later, I do not have the assurance of the package of 6 IVFs waiting for me or the non-elevated FSH ovaries that would make it possible for me to go back and do it again. But one thing I do have is a child. So, although de-ja-vu, I was looking at the experience with a very different lens. Nevertheless, my longing is no less.

And so begins the complete and total mindf%$ that is the *sorta* 2 WW. I forgot how intense it could be. Namely, I forgot how much it SUCKS MONKEY BALLS. More on that....

Doing our part to educate! Our TV appearances on infertility:

Proud Member of the ALI Community

About

37, hopelessly infertile, married, and by the skin of my teeth (and gobs of medical intervention), a Mom. I'm spending my days hoping lightening strikes a second time that so I can get my grubby little hands on that last title one more time...